Chapter 3 - The Billionaire’s Ring
The ballroom went dead silent, save for the faint hum of the overhead air conditioning. Even the band stopped playing, the drummer’s sticks hovering mid-air.
Thomas lowered his champagne glass, his eyes widening in sheer bewilderment as he watched the most powerful investor in the country stride purposefully past four hundred open-mouthed elites. Real estate heirs, local judges, and wealthy socialites parted like the Red Sea before Moses, completely intimidated by the sheer weight of Daniel’s presence.
My father puffed out his chest, adjusting his tie, assuming—in his infinite, narcissistic delusion—that Daniel Reyes had somehow heard of his local business exploits and was coming to introduce himself. Thomas even took a step forward, a greasy, welcoming smile plastered across his face.
“Mr. Reyes! Welcome, welcome! I’m Thomas Vance, father of the bride—ow!”
Thomas didn't even finish his sentence. Daniel didn't just walk past him; he brushed past Thomas with the absolute indifference one might show a stubborn pebble on a sidewalk.
Daniel didn't stop until he reached me.
The entire room stared in absolute disbelief as the multi-billionaire stopped right in front of me, his harsh expression instantly softening into something warm, fierce, and utterly devoted. He reached out, gently cupping my cheek with his warm palm, his thumb brushing away a stray lock of hair.
“Are you alright, Meredith?” Daniel asked, his deep voice carrying clearly across the silent hall. “My pilot said your text sounded urgent. Did someone touch you?”
Before I could answer, Thomas hurried over, his face flushed red with a mixture of panic and sycophantic eagerness. “Mr. Reyes, there must be some mistake! This is just... this is my oldest daughter, Meredith. She’s... well, she’s a bit unstable, always crashing events—"
Daniel slowly turned his head. The look he gave my father could have frozen liquid nitrogen.
“Shut your mouth, Thomas,” Daniel commanded quietly, the words dripping with razor-sharp venom.
Thomas choked on his own spit, stumbling back a step. “Excuse me? You’re talking to the father of the bride!”
“No,” Daniel corrected, stepping smoothly in front of me as if shielding me from a disease. “I am talking to a pathetic, abusive old man who just assaulted my wife.”
The word hung in the air like a bomb detonating.
Wife.
Across the room, Allison dropped her bouquet. The heavy arrangement of white roses hit the polished floor with a dull thud. Eleanor let out a sharp, choked gasp, clutching her pearls as if she were having a heart attack.
“W-wife?!” Allison shrieked, marching over in her massive Vera Wang gown, her face twisted in hysterical rage. “What kind of sick joke are you playing, Meredith?! You’re not married! You’ve been single, bitter, and pathetic for ten years! Mr. Reyes, she’s lying to you! She’s a spinster, she doesn't know you—"
“Quiet, Allison,” Daniel said, his voice cutting through her hysterics like a whip.
Daniel reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out a small, thick booklet, tossing it carelessly onto the nearest wedding table. It landed right in front of Chad, the bewildered groom. Chad picked it up with shaking hands and opened it.
May you like
“It... it’s a certified marriage certificate,” Chad whispered, his voice trembling as he looked up at Daniel in sheer terror. “Issued in Zurich... three years ago. Sealed by federal and international registry.”
The room erupted into a deafening wall of chaotic whispers. Three years. While my family was mocking me for being alone, while they were forcing me to sit at the kids' table during holidays, while they treated me like an unpaid servant—I had been legally married to one of the richest, most powerful men on the planet.
